


The Winter Hunt

by Cat_Latin



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Multi, SGA Secret Santa 2009
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:42:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Latin/pseuds/Cat_Latin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lanteans help the Athosians revive a seasonal custom. </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ice Over Athos

Winter held the land.  Trees slept, branches stretched bare and brittle under bright gray skies, while the snow fell, gentle and continuous.    
  
Creatures of summer kept still beneath the ground.  In the valleys, the great herds began to move toward the south, as they had for generations.  
  
Here and there among the twisted brambles, a dried berry clung, bright as blood against the snow.  A shriveled leaf recalled the golden sun, small tokens left behind by the creatures of Athos, to honor the Winter Spirit.  
  
The Stargate stood quiet, a lonely ornament in a sea of white.  Its chevrons sparkled with frost.  
  
And then it hummed.  A blast of liquid heat, and the ‘gate came to life, steaming off its icy coat.  All around its base, the snow began to melt.  
  
A MALP rolled through, slowly, as if reluctant to face the weather.  Its mechanical eyes roved and spun, taking in the scene with caution.  Then, as if satisfied, it turned and disappeared.   
  
Moments passed, then something else came through, creating small disturbances in the ‘gate’s pool of energy, three somethings to be precise, swift, sleek and invisible, one right after the other.     
  
The cloaked puddlejumpers rose, turned, and shot toward the valleys.  
  
When they landed, twenty-five people emerged.  The hatches closed, and the ships immediately re-cloaked and hovered.  The Marines fanned out, twelve in all, flanking the Athosian hunting party.  John and his soldiers stood at a respectful distance as Teyla, Halling and their people sank to the ground and pressed their foreheads to the ice, packed solid by the migrating herd.  Ronon lingered a bit closer than the Marines, both hunter and protector.  He remained standing, but bowed his head and closed his eyes as Teyla began the prayer:  
  
"We give thanks to the Spirit of Winter.  We give thanks for strong bodies and capable hands.  We ask for a successful hunt, and hold respect for the life of the creature who falls.  After five cycles away from our home, we are grateful to once again touch the land of our birth.  Though our exile continues, we will treasure this memory and share it with our children.  It is so."  
  
"It is so," the Athosians responded.  They rose and faced John and his Marines.  Teyla's cheeks were ruddy with the cold, and her eyes glowed.  "And thank you all, for your friendship, and for making it possible for us to resume our tradition.”   
  
***  
  
 _Five weeks earlier..._  
  
DADT was repealed.  Who knew what was going on Earth-side, but there was barely a ripple in Atlantis.  The war had been in John’s head all along.  He was happy to surrender.  Christmas was coming.  
  
In other news, Woolsey had welcomed a chance to do something for the 'Lantean's closest allies.  At a staff meeting, talk of a combined end-of-the-year holiday celebration had led to Teyla describing the Athosian Winter Hunt.  The tradition was abandoned when Athos was culled, and the Wraith drove what was left of Teyla's people off the planet.  
  
"It's too dangerous to re-settle Athos, but we could help them hunt," Ronon suggested.  "Give them some protection."   
  
"The idea is much appreciated," Teyla said, "However, it takes many days for a hunting party to track a herd, and sometimes many more to isolate prey and wear it down."  
  
Rodney snorted.  "Just fly down with a jumper and hit one with a...drone..."  His voice trailed off, and he shrank a little under the icy stares from everyone else around the conference table.  
  
"Even I know that's poor sport, Rodney," Jennifer said.    
  
"There's got to be an acceptable way we could help make the trip quicker," John said.  
  
Teyla looked at Woolsey, expecting him to shut down this line of conversation, but he just raised his brows and nodded in a 'go on' gesture.  She smiled, surprised and pleased.   
  
"The hunt is always conducted on foot, but we would welcome the use of a ‘jumper to bring us closer to the valleys," Teyla said.  "It could save us days of tracking."    
  
Ronon sat up straighter, looking interested.  "Weapons?"  
  
"Any hand-held weapon would be appropriate," Teyla replied.  "Our forebears had access to projectiles and stunners, before the Wraith destroyed our technology."  
  
“Teyla you understand this is not about granting permission for your people to return to Athos,” Woolsey said.  “We’d never presume--”  
  
“Of course,” Teyla interrupted gently.  “It’s about safety and expediency.”  
  
Woolsey looked at John.  “If we can figure out a way, then you have a go.”  
  
***  
  
 _Now..._  
  
On frozen Athos, the hunting party moved silently through the trees in their layers of fur.  The Marines followed, watchful and curious.   At the edge of the woods, Teyla signaled the group to stop and be still, and John got his first in-person look at the creatures the Athosians had pursued every winter, for generations.  
  
John caught Cadman’s face out of the corner of his eye, awestruck, looking out at the herd.  She caught his eye and silently mouthed the word, “Wow.”    
  
For a long while, Teyla and Halling watched the resting herd, and then they gestured for Jinto to come forward.  John suddenly noticed the boy stood taller than Halling, now.   A bow and a quiver of arrows hung from his back, a hunting knife was strapped to his side, and he held a salvaged Wraith stunner in his hand with a confident grip.  It was his first Winter Hunt.  
  
"Look carefully," Teyla whispered.  "Which one?"  
  
Jinto surveyed the herd sharply.  To John’s inexperienced eye, there were several obvious choices, younger ones, elderly ones, but Jinto pointed to one that was large and strong, standing only a short distance from the herd.  
  
"Wise choice," Halling said.    
  
At a signal, the hunting party moved as one.  
  
  
***  
  
  
 _Three weeks earlier..._  
  
Radek found information about the creatures, including images, in the Ancient database.  Mastodon-like, the animals were enormous, appeared to be earless, and were abundantly covered with long, auburn fur.  
  
"Oh my god, they're going to hunt a Snuffleupagus," Rodney said.   
  
“It’ll take a lot of skill to bring one down quick,” Ronon said.  “Teyla says they’re thick-skinned and really strong.”  
  
 “The medical team and zoology can use the information on the Ancient database to figure that out,” Jennifer offered.  
  
“What, are you high?  I hardly think this is a job for the voodoo crew,” Rodney said.  “I could have this sorted out on my coffee break, while playing Minesweeper and downloading porn.”  
  
A small crowd of the curious, scientists and off-duty Marines, had gathered in the lab.  Among them was Laura Cadman, who glared at Rodney and nudged Jennifer.  “Are you gonna let him talk to you like that?”  
  
“Please, he’s been walking on eggshells with me for months,” Jennifer replied.  “Now he’s belittling my abilities and questioning my sanity, just like he does with the rest of you.  I take it as a compliment.”  She poked Rodney in the chest.  “Care to make it interesting?”  
  
Rodney crossed his arms.  “What did you have in mind?”  
  
Everyone turned to look at John.  John figured he knew why, but he just shrugged.  “There’ll be a party here, after the hunt.  Almost a hundred Athosians, plus the two hundred here.  There’ll be a bunch of kids, so...loser has to dress as Santa.”  
  
Rodney rolled his eyes, then noticed that Jennifer had gone pale.  “Hah!  Problem with that?”  
  
Jennifer looked shifty.  “What, you think I have issues with getting up in male drag?”  
  
“No, but I think you’ve got stage-fright!”  Jennifer blushed and glared.  Rodney cackled with evil glee and swept her up in a mock-waltz around the lab, singing, “I saw Rodney kissing Santa Claus.”  
  
“Shut up!”  Jennifer was smiling when she turned on her heel and stalked out of the lab.  “We’re going to win anyway,” she threw over her shoulder, before she disappeared out the door.  
  
“I guess I’m forgiven,” Rodney said softly, when she was gone.  He looked at John.  “That was--with the dance, you know.  Friendly competition.”  He touched John’s hand briefly.  “We’re good, right?”  
  
John couldn’t stop the stupid grin that split his face.  “We’re awesome.”  
  
***  
  
 _Now..._  
  
The Athosians cried out, wild, joyful sounds to John’s ears, spooking the herd and sending it one way, while Teyla, Ronon and Jinto did the dangerous work of hemming in the young bull that Jinto selected.  
  
It was over as quickly as Jennifer’s team had promised.  Three stun-blasts, fired simultaneously from their guns stilled the creature long enough for Jinto to deliver a swift, killing blow.  Jinto muttered a prayer in Athosian as the first steaming blood spilled onto the snow.  
  
John watched in amazement as the Athosians made short work of skinning and butchering the animal.    
  
“None will go wasted,” Halling said.  
  
The ‘jumpers had been hovering protectively all along, watching for any indication of Wraith.  Now they landed, long enough to collect passengers and meat; then all three sped safely toward the ‘gate.  
  
John was going home to roasted Snuffleupagus and hard Athosian cider. With any luck, his lover would greet them with bad grace, wearing a cheap red suit, and a beard that resembled the ass of a dreadlocked yak.   
  
What could be more festive?  
  



	2. In Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodney loses a bet.

It was Jennifer who greeted John in the 'jumper bay, wearing a smug smile, and carrying a large box.

"Rodney won't answer me on his radio, the sore loser. This just came on the Daedalus. I thought you might like to deliver it."

John opened the box and grinned at the garish red-felt costume, and the cottony beard that accompanied it. "I'm on it."

Rodney let John into his quarters and scoffed at the cheap Santa suit. "Please. If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right." He went to his closet, and as he dug toward the back, he said, "These are Athosian children, right? They have no concept of Santa Claus. So they'll appreciate something more familiar."

The robe was a rich burgundy-red, hand-woven from the wool of the sort-of-goats the Athosians kept on the mainland. It was floor-length, with threads of green embroidered into a holly pattern--Rodney must have sketched this out for the weaver---surrounding the silver-gray fur trimming the sleeves and collar. Rodney closed the robe with a hand-tooled belt of dark brown leather, and put on the matching fur hat.

Rodney had left off shaving a few weeks ago, long enough to have a short, but serviceable beard. It had come in a little darker than his hair, with flecks of red and gold, and just a hint of silver.

He looked like some Yuletide god of long ago, solid, and red-cheeked and perfect.

When Rodney sat on the edge of the bed to put on his boots, John walked over and straddled his lap. "I've been very,  _very_ good," he said.

"Oh my god, you total freak, you have a  _Santa_  kink?"

John didn't, really, but he wasn't in the mood for conversation, so he ran his tongue up the side of Rodney's neck instead. Rodney squeaked, and said, "They're expecting us in a few minutes."

"Shh."

Rodney had black BDUs on under the robe, and no shirt. John skimmed off his own t shirt, and wasted no time getting both of their flys open, while Rodney groaned and pushed up into his hand. John wrapped his fist around both their hard cocks and wrapped his free arm around Rodney's broad shoulders, and rode the sensations until they both spilled out over his fingers.

While Rodney lay catching his breath, John cleaned them both up with his cast-off t shirt. The red robe had remained pristine; John had been very good indeed. He got up and rummaged in Rodney's closet for a new shirt.   
  
*

"Christ, this thing weighs a ton," Rodney said. He hefted the sack of gifts from one shoulder to another, as they walked toward the hall where the festivites were taking place. When they got to the door, John hung far enough back, to let Rodney make his entrance, but close enough to eavesdrop.

"Hey, kids, do you know who I am?"

A chorus of young voices: "No."

"I'm the anthropormorphic representation of warmth, abundance and hope, despite the darkness and chill of winter. Do you know what that means?"

"...No."

"It means presents!"

"Yay!"

John smiled.


End file.
